Do You Ever Yearn?
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: Lexie can't get Mark out of her head, and she finally decides to enlist some professional help to deal with the ever-present problem. M/L, rated T, set sometime during the 8th season. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Lexie can't get Mark out of her head, and she finally decides to enlist some professional help to deal with the ever-present problem. M/L, rated T

Rating: T, for some sexual references and desperate!Lexie

Author's Note: That awkward moment when a rerun of _Seinfeld _from 1996 inspires you. (Guys, what is _happening_ to me? I am in some serious need of _real _M/L.) The dialogue in between sections comes from the episode _The Keys._ If you type in /watch?v=wA4oJfNe-DU after the standard youtube web address, you can find the scene. …And, yes, I know it was a joke. It was a funny moment, and never really meant to be taken seriously (except by Kramer, of course)… But I have this really pathetic ability that enables me to relate _anything_ to Mark and Lexie. So here we go. I hope you enjoy it.

. . .

"Hi," Lexie says softly, opening the door and stepping into the small room. The woman sitting in an armchair in the middle of the room looks up, and Lexie immediately recognizes her. Dr. Greta Jenson. Doctor. Psychiatrist. Shrink. _And possibly someone who can help me, _Lexie reminds herself, trying to keep an open, tolerable mind.

"Hello," the woman replies. "Please have a seat." She gestures to the other armchair in the room. A long, thin coffee table separates the two chairs. Lexie perches in the seat. After a moment, the psychiatrist smiles knowingly. "You don't want to be here, do you?"

Lexie gives her a weak smile. "No, I… I don't."

"So why are you here, then?"

"Because I need someone to help me."

Greta nods, leaning backward slightly to appraise her client. "With what?"

Lexie takes a deep breath. "With getting a certain… _person_ out of my head."

Greta reclines in her chair, nodding slowly. "And you think I'll be able to help you?" She smiles wryly. "I can't exactly modify your memory, you know. And hypnosis rarely—if ever—works. If you've formed a deep attachment with this person, they will no doubt always be in your head. Maybe not in the forefront," she adds, "but they'll be in there somewhere."

Lexie nods. She hadn't expected a quick-fix. "Well, 'somewhere' I can deal with," she replies. "But this…" She sighs. "This constant barrage, this—this constant _assault _on my mind…" She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. "This," she begins slowly, opening her eyes to stare at the professional in the other chair. "_This_, I cannot deal with."

The psychiatrist nods. "Okay," she replies after a moment. Lexie watches as she clicks the pen in her hand before settling into her seat. "Why don't we begin with something simple… Who is it that's in your head? Who's this person that's dominating your thoughts?"

Lexie takes a shaky breath. "His name is Mark."

She watches as Greta writes this down. "I noticed you didn't give me a last name," she comments.  
Lexie sighs. "Is that really necessary?"

"No. Just an observation."

Lexie nods, relieved that she doesn't have to make this personal matter into a professional one as well by admitting his identity to the surgical staff's personal on-site shrink. "So," she says, leaning forward. "What are you thinking of when he's on your mind?"

.

_"I have surgery in twenty minutes," he mumbles against her mouth, trying to get the words out among her forceful kisses._

_ "Don't care," she replies tersely, already tugging at the hem of his scrub shirt. He lips his arms immediately, helping her to remove it. When his eyes find her again, he notices she's discarded her clothing as well—and any protests he might've had left vanish at the sight of her._

_ "Lex…"_

_ She smiles, taking a few dainty steps forward, pressing her bare body against his. "Hi," she murmurs, her voice much softer than before as she stares up at him._

_ "Hi," he grins down at her. His hands grip her hips lightly but possessively. "Slowed down a bit, have you?" Lexie rolls her eyes at his mocking tone of voice. "First, you send me a fake emergency page—which was _**not** _okay, by the way—and then you start ripping off my clothes like you have two minutes to live. And _now_ you're—"_

_ "One," Lexie interrupts with a cheeky smile, "don't pretend that you didn't like the page. And two…" She pretends to glare at him. "If I have only two minutes to live, who's to say I'd want to spend it, _**naked**_, with _**you**_?"  
He grins. "Even if you had an eternity to live, we both know you'd want to spend it with me." His hands squeeze her hips. "And we would most definitely be naked the entire time."_

_ Lexie rolls her eyes, but smiles anyway. She arches her neck, lifting her mouth to his as her hands slip beneath the waistline of his scrub pants._

_ "Nineteen minutes," she hears him mumble faintly, just before relieving him of the rest of his clothes and leading the way to the bed._

.

"They… They aren't memories, exactly," Lexie replies. "Sometimes, they're daydreams, things I would think up when I was feeling desperate or when I really missed him… I—I used to just have them right after we broke up. But now…" She closes her eyes. "Now it's all the time." She sighs, knowing it'll be easier to give up the details willingly than to have this stranger pick at her ridiculous fantasies. She stares at the coffee table between them as she speaks. "Many… Many times, we're at work. He'll pull me aside or I'll pull him aside… We'll sneak into an on-call room or an empty exam room and…" A smile takes place on her lips involuntarily. "Sometimes it's a bit more frenzied than that. I'll stop the elevator when it's just us inside, or we'll pass each other in the hall, and we can't do anything except give in…"

"To desire?"

Lexie lifts her eyes at the other woman's voice. She'd almost forgotten she was speaking aloud. "To each other," she replies, finally meeting the woman's gaze. "This—this isn't just about sex," she adds a moment later. Greta holds her gaze, taking in the young woman's words seriously. "If it were, I would dream about anyone. If it were, I'd pick up any guy at the bar. But this is about _him_, and—"

"And these fantasies are how you're keeping your relationship alive," Greta finishes for her. "Through illicit sexual acts."

Lexie blushes, not having thought the older woman would be so explicit. "I… I…" She takes a breath, forcing herself to keep cool. "I can't exactly help myself, if that makes sense. I—I mean, I've tried, obviously but I… I just can't stop."

. . .

"_**Do you ever yearn?"**_

"'**Yearn**_**?' Do I **_**yearn?**_**"**_

"_**I yearn."**_

"**You**_** yearn?"**_

"_**Oh, yes, yes, I yearn. Often I, I sit…and **_**yearn**_**."**_

_. . ._

"It's like I'm going crazy. All I think about are these dreams. They—" She takes a deep breath. "I literally think it might drive me crazy. I think _he _might drive me crazy," she adds quietly after a second.

Greta smiles sympathetically. "I don't think you'll go insane just from longing, Dr. Grey."

"'Longing?'" Lexie repeats skeptically.

The psychiatrist nods. "Yes, longing. That's what this is, isn't it? Longing, yearning, pining, craving, aching… Call it what you want, but the bottom line is: you miss him. And you want him," she adds seriously, eying her client.

"I…" Lexie trails off, struggling to swallow her emotions and refute the woman's claim. The lump rising in her throat is obstructing her voice from being heard, much the same way her continual desire for him has blocked out everything else in her life. _As if there were anything else._ She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. She tries to discipline herself, to force those thoughts away, but already—it's too late. Already—

.

_"Mark," she breathes. "What are you doing?"_

_ He presses his body closer against hers, and from the way his mouth curves against the side of her neck, she knows he's smiling. "I think you know exactly what I'm doing," he whispers, placing warm kisses just above the neckline of her scrubs._

_ "I…" She bites her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood if he hadn't reached out and turned her head to face his. Her mouth falls slack when she looks into his eyes._

_ "I'm here because you want me to be here," he informs her softly. He glances down, his eyes falling to the few inches of floor between their feet. Lexie follows his gaze, unsurprised to find they're both naked now even though they were fully clothed just a moment ago. "I'm here because you want me." He's staring at her when she looks back up. "But I'll go if you want me to go," he tells her quietly._

_ Lexie's shaking her head before he even finishes the sentence. "No," she replies. "No, you're right. I… I do want you. And I don't want you to go. I… never want you to go."_

_ He smiles, and the happiness in that gesture reaches his eyes in a split-second. "Glad to hear it," he whispers, leaning forward to lower his mouth to hers. Lexie's eyes fall closed at the kiss, but that doesn't stop her from stepping forward. It doesn't stop her from reaching up and burrowing her hands in his hair, or relishing in the way his hands cup her back, tugging her closer and closer—_

.

"Did you say hi to Mark from me?"

Lexie jolts in her seat, a fiery blush covering her skin as she recognizes the voice of her psychiatrist. She meets the woman's eyes for barely a fraction of a second—she can't stand any longer—but even then, she could see the amusement in the woman's expression.

"So?" Greta prompts a minute later, after Lexie's blush has all bust faded to nothingness. "Are you going to tell me what just went on in your head or are we going to sit here for the next hour and pretend like nothing happened?"

_. . ._

"_**Have you yearned?"**_

"…_**Well, not recently. I craved. I crave all the time. Constant craving. But I haven't yearned."**_

_. . ._

"I _can't_ stop thinking about him. It's—it's not like before. Before, it was a lot, but now—it's all the time now." She closes her eyes momentarily. "I don't know what to do," she whispers.

"And this is… just because you know he's with someone else?" Greta wonders, curious.

Lexie debates this, mulling over the answer. "Partly," she replies finally. "But mostly, it's just because… He's not with me. Do you know what I mean? He—He could have a girlfriend or he could be alone; it wouldn't matter. I'd still want him. Still, I'd think of him. Still, I'd… I…"

"And what do you think of?" Greta asks quietly.

Lexie raises guilty eyes to the other woman. "I…" She looks down for a moment, and the skin covering her cheeks takes on a decidedly pinkish hue. "I'm not sure how appropriate it is to say aloud."

Greta is smiling wryly when Lexie looks back up. "You'd be surprised the intimate details one reveals to a person they believe could have insight into the turmoil raging within their mind." She inclines her head to the young surgeon. "Indulge me for a moment. I promise I won't judge."

Lexie sighs loudly, trying to stamp out the embarrassment rising within her. "Mostly, I dream about him….and me. And if—if I see them together, I always do, I always dream."

Greta nods, knowing she's referring to the plastic surgeon Mark Sloan and his girlfriend, whose name is never spoken—just as his last name isn't—even though they both know it's Julia. "And what have you been dreaming about recently?"

.

_She can feel his breath at her ear. She can feel the heat from his body as he stands mere centimeters away._

_ "You've been thinking of me," he whispers quietly. He doesn't ask a question, she already knows that he knows. Her eyes drift closed at the gravelly quality of his voice. "I know you have," he murmurs, affirming her suspicions. His hands reach out to hover lightly on her hips. "Why don't you tell me what you've been thinking of, baby?"_

_ Lexie opens her eyes, turning around to face him. In the blink of an eye, the clothes they'd been wearing disappeared. The hospital walls disappeared. His bed—their old bed—is placed just before them and she absentmindedly registers that they're in his apartment. Alone. Together._

_ "This," she whispers, pressing her lips to his and bringing their bare bodies together. Somehow, already, they've become one. "I've been thinking of this."_

_ He's smiling at her a moment later, now crouched above her on the bed. "Me too," he whispers, leaning down for a kiss. Her hands grapple for his face, cupping his cheeks and pulling him as close as possible as his arms do the same, wrapping around her back and holding her front flush against his._

.

"…Being with him," Lexie admits softly.

"Intimately?"

Lexie takes a shallow breath before nodding. "Yes," she forces out.

"And are the dreams…always like this? Are they always of a sexual nature?"

Lexie shakes her head. "No, not always." She sighs, thinking back. She remembers a few times, when she dreamt they were married. They had been picking out furniture for a house they were buying. Everything he'd wanted to buy was hideous.

But she let him buy it all anyway, knowing it would make him happy.

"Mostly…" Lexie takes a breath, forcing herself to forget and continue. "You're right, mostly they're—they're like that. Sexual, and…" She trails off with a tired sigh. "And I'll…"

"And you'll what?" Greta presses softly.

Lexie raises her eyes to the other woman, her expression strained. "And when I wake up, just for a second, I'll think what happened in my dreams was reality. But then I open my eyes, and… And he's not there. The dreams weren't real, no matter how much I wanted them to be. And then I have to get up, go to work, and see him every day. And every time I see him, I just remember what it was like to—to be with him, to have _him _with _me_, and I…" She sighs, closing her eyes and trying to forget the way it felt to have him hold her hand and kiss her lips. To look down and see a ring on her finger, and to know that there was a matching one on his. To hear him say _I love you_ with an honest, happy smile. "It's like a vicious cycle," she resumes after a moment, forcing her mind to go blank and her eyes to open. "The more I see him, the more I think about him and then dream about him. And after I dream, I—I know I shouldn't, but I always want to see him. Just—just to know he's real. On some level. On any level."

"But he isn't yours," Greta points out.

Lexie bites back an exasperated sigh at the reminder. "I know that," she replies tersely.

"Have you talked to him about this?"

Lexie laughs, feeling suddenly lighthearted. "Are you kidding?" She grins.

Greta shakes her head seriously, and Lexie's face goes blank as she realizes what the other woman is saying. "You're… _serious_?" She manages. "What the hell—what would I even say? Oh, hi, Mark, I know we haven't talked since we broke up, but would you be interested to know that I fantasize about you on a nightly basis?"

"That is… one way to approach the subject," the psychiatrist allows. "But I had something more subtle in mind."

"No matter how subtle you introduce the topic, the facts remain the same: I am _always _thinking about him. And we are no longer together."

Greta nods. She opens her mouth, but closes it a moment later. Lexie stares at her, wondering what she thought better of before deciding not to speak. "What?" She asks, her voice sharper than she originally intended. "What is it?"

Greta pauses to take a breath, just before looking up into her client's eyes. "Do you… Do you think about him when you're intimate with others?"

Lexie stares at her, completely taken aback. "I…" She swallows. _Why would she say that?_ Her tongue feels glued to the inside of her mouth. She tries to hold onto her outrage, but soon another thought breaks its way to the surface of her frazzled mind, and the outrage fades to wonder: _How did she know? _"I… I haven't been with anyone since I broke up with my last boyfriend three months ago." _Over Mark, _she adds silently.

"Oh," Greta replies quietly.

The ghost of a smirk makes an appearance on Lexie's face as she tries to combat her anxiety. "Dry spell, right?"

"More like a forced drought," Greta replies. She stares at her client when the woman's eyes fly to hers. "You don't want to be with anyone but him, do you?" She wonders softly a moment later.

Lexie looks away. She knows if she has to spend one more second looking into those perceptive eyes, she'll blurt the truth. Just like she always does when put under pressure.

But the shrink continues anyway. "And this isn't just because of, I'm guessing, your exceptional chemistry?"

Lexie still doesn't meet the doctor's eyes, choosing instead to study the pattern of the worn carpet across the room.

"You're still in love with him."

The six simple words slice through the tense air like six bullets from a gun, and from the way her client starts at the statement, Greta half-expects the woman to start sporting bloodstains on her immaculate scrubs. Nothing happens, though, and as silence descends again a mere second later, the two fall back in their chairs. Lexie's ears still ring from the words and she has to hold her body in place so it doesn't visibly shake. It feels like an eternity to her, but it can't be more than five minutes before Lexie finally looks back and opens her mouth to speak.

"What do I do?" She whispers, her voice hushed with barely-concealed terror.

_. . ._

"_**Look at you. You're wasting your life."**_

_. . ._

"Okay," Greta says tiredly. It's their tenth session, and after almost two and a half months, each meeting has been the same. They'll talk about her life for a bit. How work is going, how her family is, how she is… And then they'll talk about Mark. In their early sessions, Lexie had jumped right into the topic of her ex. She explained things without skipping a detail, but these days, it seems like she's been omitting things left and right. Now, she wastes hours recounting minutes-long conversations with her sister or her brother-in-law or other coworkers. And whenever the subject of Mark is brought up, she quickly changes it. "Lexie," she begins, "you need to hear this." It didn't take a professional with decades of insight into the human mind to tell that she needed a push in the right direction.

"I need to hear what?" Lexie replies dejectedly. "Nothing you're telling me has done anything. I can't get him out of my head, and these meetings are really only furthering the problem."

"You've made no progress since you admitted to being in love with him," Greta informs her. "You clammed up since then." She stares at her client. "You're _ignoring_ the problem, Lexie. And that isn't helping anyone, least of all you."

Lexie bristles immediately, feeling the truthful sting of the woman's words. "I am _not_—"

"Anyway," Greta continues with a dismissive wave of her hand, "the time for fixing that problem is long gone."

Lexie glares at her. "Then _why, _exactly, are we continuing these meetings if I'm beyond all hope of being fixed? What are you trying to say here?"

Greta takes a slow breath, eyeing her client and wondering how best to break the news. "'I'm trying to say… Have you heard… that Dr. Sloan is single?"

It takes Lexie a few silent moments to process this. Eventually, her reply comes out with a hushed breath, "What?"

Greta nods, a smile tugging at her lips. "A few of the nurses that see me mentioned it in passing a few weeks ago. I wasn't sure if you knew, but now it's clear you didn't—"

"He's single," Lexie breathes. The psychiatrist nods.

"Now, I suggest you—"

"Thank you," Lexie interrupts, already on her feet. "Thank you very much for all your help, but I think I've got it from here."

Greta watches, a bit stupefied, as her client rushes across the room, pulling open the door and letting it fall shut behind her without another word. She feels a proud smile take shape on her face in less than a minute, happy to see the young surgeon finally take some action towards redirecting her fate.

.

"Hey, Mark?"

Mark Sloan turns around, surprised to find Lexie Grey directly addressing him. She hasn't spoken to him in months. "Yeah?" He asks, feeling a smile tug at the edges of his mouth just from hearing her voice.

"I, uh, I was wondering…" He watches, amused, as she stumbles over her words nervously. But a second later, her voice has evened out and her words are determined. "What are you doing later?"

"Later?" He repeats, dumbstruck.

"Yeah," she replies, not at all put off by his surprise. She knew it would be her best asset. "I was wondering if we could maybe get a drink? And talk," she adds, a half-nervous smile flitting onto her face.

"Talk," he repeats, staring at her.

"Yeah," she replies. "Talk." A suggestions slips into her smile a moment later. She takes only a small step towards him, but to anyone watching, it's clear that she's invaded his personal space. And he let her do so without a second thought. "I have a few questions for you."

"What questions?" He wonders, letting his eyes run over her.

"Well, for one…" She smiles, looking down before flicking her eyes to look up at him. "Mark, do you ever…" She lowers her voice, and for a second he thinks she's going to reach out and touch him. For a second, he thinks she's about to step forward and press her lips to his. "Do you ever…" Her lips flicker into a secretly amused smile, "yearn?"

"Yearn?" He repeats dumbly, feeling his blood pressure skyrocket and her proximity. Somehow she's moved even closer without his notice. The navy and bright blue fabric of their identical scrubs is almost touching. "Do I ever yearn?"

"Yeah, you know…" She pauses momentarily as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Mark tries not to view the gesture as prelude to erotica, but of course once he thinks it, the idea is out there. He forces himself to push those thoughts from his mind and focus on her words. But that doesn't help much.

"Have you ever longed for anything, or…" Her eyes flicker to the floor for just a half-second before returning to his. Her dark gaze almost bowls him over with all the unspoken emotion behind it. "Or for anyone?" She finishes quietly, her eyes locked with his.

He stares at her, mute, for almost an entire minute. As the seconds drag by without a word from him, Lexie feels her confidence growing. He isn't running away, he isn't laughing at her… In fact, he seems to be taking her much more seriously than she ever expected he would. When one minute turns into three, Lexie realizes its time for them to part ways. She can't stand here all day, waiting for him to come back to earth. She smiles once—secretly, to herself—just as she's about to leave.

And then she leans forward, elevating herself a few inches, and places a quick kiss on his left cheek. Her lips pause by his face for a moment afterwards, letting her words drift past his ear. After speaking, she walks away without another word, leaving Mark to stare after her and watch her go, speechless and frozen.

Her words play over, again and again in his head—and hers—as they part ways. Lexie's smiling as she goes, forcing herself to keep her cool and stare straight ahead, no matter how much she'd like to look back and see his reaction. Just thinking about it makes her insides twist with excitement and nervous fear. Yet she doesn't stop smiling.

It takes Mark two more minutes to remove the cotton from his ears. It takes him another minute to unstick his feet from the floor. And it takes him a good, concentrated ten minutes to make his blood to pump to _all _of his extremities, not just the one. But even after all that's done, even after his body has returned to "normal"… His brain hasn't. Every syllable from the relatively short conversation he just exchanged with her is still bouncing around in his head… But one phrase in particular, one phrase that she whispered in his ear just after placing a quick kiss on his cheek, is dominating his mind… He shakes his head, still unable to determine if she really said it or not.

_I yearn for you._

.

Author's Note: Reviews are greatly appreciated. I may continue this. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

.

_Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews! Here is the second part:_

.

He thinks about her for the rest of the day. His mind is never far from her face, her body, her actions, her words… _Her_. He focuses on her so intently, he barely notices how much time has passed since she approached him in the hallway. But when his last surgery of the day comes to a close, he glances down to his watch, just out of curiosity. It's almost six.

She said to meet him in a half-hour.

He feels a smile spread over his face just at the idea, already heading to the doctor's longue. He changes quickly, switching out of his scrubs and back into his street clothes as if in a daze. He makes his way down a few blocks to Joe's in no time, his mind distracted all the while.

It's only when he sees her—looking up as the bell on the door announces his arrival—that he remembers her question from earlier in the day. His previous smile spreads into a wide grin when he realizes he has an answer to her query.

_Have you ever longed for anything or… for anyone?_

.

"So…" Mark begins, straddling the bar stool next to hers and motioning Joe for a scotch. "What did you want to talk about?"

Lexie gives him a small smile. "Technically, I didn't want to talk about anything." She traces the drops of condensation on her bottle of beer, oblivious to his surprised stare. "But I figured we should talk about something." She looks over to him a moment later, holding his gaze with confidence. "And the truth is, Mark, you're all that I've thought about for the past three months." She pauses, but in his shock, he doesn't move to interject. "And before you think that I'm exaggerating," she adds, "just go and ask Dr. Jenson."

Mark narrows his eyes at her words, swirling his drink. "The shrink?" He asks in confusion, vaguely registering the name.

Lexie nods, taking a sip of her beer. "Yup."

"Why should I ask her?" Mark asks, tasting his drink as well.

"Because she's the person I've been talking to about it," Lexie replies. "For the last three months, she's been as deep inside my mind as you."

"She… What?" He leans forward, his forehead creasing in confusion, not having seen this coming at all. "You've been seeing the shrink? About… me?"

Lexie nods, suddenly feeling self-conscious and glancing down at the table. "Yeah," she replies. "I…" She trails off, lifting her head and her eyes to face him. "You heard what I said when I left this afternoon?"

Mark nods, feeling his stomach clench at the affirmation: _she actually said it._

"Well, I…" A light blush covers her cheeks, and Mark finds himself smiling at the sight. "I meant what I said."  
He grins, raising his eyebrows. "You yearn for me?"

Lexie chuckles, looking away to avoid his laughing eyes. "Well, it sounds ridiculously pathetic when you say it like that."

"It didn't sound ridiculously pathetic when you said it to me," Mark replies quietly.

Lexie turns her head to stare at him, holding her breath without a second thought as she clings to his words. "It didn't?"

He shakes his head. "No, it didn't." He stares at her for a second before getting to his feet. As he takes a step towards her, she scrambles to her feet as well. Sandwiched together between the two stools, Mark and Lexie aren't more than four inches apart. She stares up at him, taking a breath as his piercing blue eyes settle on her.

"And do you…" She swallows, suddenly nervous. "Do you have an answer to my question?"

A smile twitches onto Mark's lips, and he steps even closer. "Yeah," he murmurs, leaning towards her. "I do."

He watches her chest freeze in mid-inhalation as her breath becomes trapped somewhere between her lungs and her mouth. She stares at him without speaking as he repeats her words from earlier that day, modified only for her hearing.

_I yearn for you too. _

Neither is too surprised when she catapults herself forward a second later, her body and lips crashing against his with a show of force Mark can't remember her ever using with him before. He smiles to himself, opening his mouth to accept hers more fully just as her hands reach up, tugging on the lapels of his jacket to bring him as close as possible.

.

If anyone had been watching the far counter at that particular moment when Lexie Grey had launched herself yet again into an old boyfriend's arms, they just would have simply rolled their eyes and chalked it up to her having too much to drink and him having no self-control. Anyone who didn't know the whole story, that is, anyone who didn't know the truth—would think that.

But Dr. Greta Jenson knew the truth. And she smiled from her post near the back of the bar, lingering just long enough to watch them break apart slowly, and then leave, hand-in-hand, through the side entrance to Joe's bar before heading home herself.

.

Mark and Lexie break apart, breathless and exhilarated, but neither utters a word. Instead, he reaches down, finding her hand and taking it in his. She smiles when he steps away, pulling her along with him as they move through the crowded bar and out into the early night. Neither hesitates as they make their way to his car, though Lexie asks him multiple times if he's certain they're doing the right thing.

"Are you sure?" She questions again and again. "Are you _positive? _Because this isn't a one-night thing for me, okay? This—" She breaks off, gasping, as he spins her around, pressing her back against the hard, cool metal of his car's passenger side's door.

"You know," he murmurs softly, bending down so she can hear him as he takes a step closer, "if you keep trying to talk me out of this, I might start thinking that you're right to do so."

Lexie presses her lips together, reaching out to place her hands on his broad shoulders. She sighs quietly, holding him to her and closing her eyes while she speaks. "I just don't want this to be a one-night thing, okay?"

"So you said." He pauses. "Open your eyes."

She does so, staring up at him and bracing herself for whatever it is that he wants to divulge. "What?" She mutters when he doesn't speak. "Why did you want me to—"

"I asked you to open your eyes," Mark interrupts patiently, "because I want you to look into my eyes while I'm speaking, and know I'm telling the truth." He pauses, giving her a small smile when she doesn't turn her eyes away. "I wasn't lying when I said I yearned for you too. And you should know…" He shifts his weight, moving closer. "I didn't just mean I wanted to take you to bed." He lifts a hand, moving it to cup her cheek lightly. "I want to be with you, Lex, and I don't want it to be just one night, either. Not after everything that's happened." He smiles softly at her, and she smiles back, just before leaning forward to brush her lips against his. Though they'd both meant for the kiss to be brief and to immediately pull back, it's soon clear that that won't happen. It's a whole minute and a half later, when they break apart for much-needed air, that their lips finally part for the first time.

"I… want this to last," he manages to say, untangling their arms from around each other and forcing himself not to take things any further. "And it won't last if we stay here."

Lexie stares back at him for a second before a grin breaks out over her face. "Take me home, then," she whispers, pushing off from the car behind her and pressing herself against him. She smiles to herself, watching as he struggles not to give in to the temptation of their proximity and relative privacy. "Take me home," she repeats a second later, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back, "and let's see how long this lasts."

.

"Okay," he murmurs tiredly against her neck, placing soft kisses on her smooth skin, "I want to know now."

"You want to know what?" Lexie asks in a yawn, pressing her face more firmly against the soft pillows of his bed. She reaches a hand back, running it through his hair in appreciation.

"I want to know what you haven't been telling me. What else you yearn for. Besides the sex," Mark adds before she can say anything. "There has to be something else." A second later, he feels her hand grow slack and fall from its place against his neck. He can't quite tell, but he's sure she's turned a bit further away from him, too. "Lex?" He prompts, confused at her change in behavior. "What is it?"

"It's nothing," she mutters. "It's just—" She closes her eyes, breaking off and biting her lip. "The stuff I've been thinking about… It doesn't really need to concern you."

"But it already does," he replies. He reaches out, taking her chin in his fingers gently and turning her head to face him. "It already concerns me, doesn't it?"

Lexie stares at him, worry and fear filling her eyes. "It…" She bites down hard on her lip before speaking. "They're just dreams, okay? I—I can't control them."

"I know that," he replies softly.

Lexie closes her eyes, squeezing them shut for so long that if it weren't for the worried crease of her forehead, he'd be sure she was asleep. As the minutes drag by, though, he doesn't push her. He holds himself back, waiting for her to speak on her own. And, eventually, she does.

"Once… I dreamt we were married," she admits in a whisper.

It takes him a long minute to unstick his throat. His voice is slightly hoarse when he tries to speak. He forces himself not to jump to conclusions. "And what... What did you dream of, exactly? Were we at a tropical beach this time instead of in an on-call room?"

"No," she replies, surprising them both with a quiet laugh. "It wasn't like that."

He stares at her, feeling his heart almost leap out of his chest at the way her lips seem to curve involuntarily in a smile at whatever she's remembering.

"It was a few times, actually, but once we were... buying furniture. For our new house."

"Exciting," Mark notes dryly, unable to tease her yet still hanging onto her every word.

Lexie rolls her eyes, replying, "You've heard enough of the exciting ones for one night, I think."

Mark grins, remembering all the hours that had led to this moment, all the hours they'd spent wrapped in each other's arms, in each other's bodies… And how she'd told him all the ways she had imagined them being together, imagined them reaching this moment. She had grinned, blushed, laughed… And though she never hinted that there was anything more she'd dreamed of, he somehow knew there was. There had to be something more. He just never suspected it would be something like this. He never let himself hope.

It's her easy laughter that draws him out of his thoughts. "You picked out the _ugliest_ chairs, Mark. I mean, _really_…" She chuckles. "They were _awful_."

"And did I get away with it?"

Lexie turns her head, quietly shocked to find that he's sporting an easy smile—same as her—despite his quiet tone. She's frozen for a second, not able to believe how calmly—how _enjoyably_—they're discussing this. "Y—Yeah," she whispers after a second, her voice much softer than she'd originally intended. She reaches out a hand, touching his cheek with her fingertips. "Yeah, you did."

He smiles. "Sounds like me," he notes, leaning into her hand. "Sounds like you, too…" He bends closer to her. "And it makes me wonder what else I can get away with," he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers gently. Lexie returns the kiss, but instead of deepening it, she lets it run its course and peter out. "What else?" He murmurs after their slow kiss deteriorates. "What else did you imagine?"

"I… I…" Lexie trails off, and Mark watches, confused, as she closes her eyes as turns away from him. Just as he's about to move forward and draw her back, to whisper comfort in her ear and assure her nothing's wrong through his soft touch, Lexie speaks. "I also dreamt we were trying for a baby," she forces herself to say. Her voice so hushed it's barely audible. "You and me," she adds, as if it were necessary to elaborate. She can almost hear Mark swallow beside her, but after a moment of reflection, she realizes that she doesn't regret telling him the truth, not matter how uncomfortable it might make things between them. She doesn't regret it, not anymore. Not when he deserves to know what sort of role he's been playing in her head all these months.

.

_"Hey, Lex?"_

_ She looks over her shoulder, smiling at the sight of her husband leaning against their bedroom's doorframe. "Yeah?" She asks, pulling off her shirt and replacing it with one she can sleep in. "What's up?"  
"Well, I was wondering…" She hears his sharp intake of breath, and frowns slightly at the sound, curious as to what he's worried about. "How's work been going?"_

_ She almost laughs at the mundane question—and its serious buildup—but his solemn expression makes her hold back. "Work's been going great," she replies with an easy smile. "Why?"_

_ "How would you…" He pushes off from the wall, walking a few steps to stand before her. He takes her hand, holding it lightly with his, and stares down into her eyes as he speaks. "How would you feel about taking a month or two off?"_

_ Lexie can't help but laugh this time. "Now?" She questions with an amused smile. "Why? What do I need all this time off for?"_

_ "It's not right now," Mark replies. "But… Would you be willing to take some time off sometime?"_

_ Lexie smiles. "Sure, honey. Where do you want to go?"_

_ He shakes his head, and steps closer a second later. "I don't want to go anywhere," he answers softly. "This isn't about a vacation."_

_ Lexie tilts her head up at him, curious now. "Then what's it about?" She wonders._

_ Mark stares at her, licking his lips quickly. "It's about…" He glances down, reaching out for her other hand. He squeezes her fingers gently. "It's about a baby," he manages to say. "It's about…" He swallows. "Us having a baby."_

_ Lexie stares at him in silence for a minute, trying to comprehend his words. "You…want a baby?" She manages finally._

_"Yeah," he replies softly. "I do." He pauses, staring at her. "Do you?"_

_Lexie can't do anything but nod. From the way she moves her head, Mark knows she's answering him._

_"R… Really?" He presses, not quite believing it._

_"Y—Yes," she manages to reply. "Yes, I'd—" She breaks off, squeezing his hands in hers. "I'd really like that."_

_He leans forward, bending down to dip his lips to hers. He's grinning when he pulls back, and releases her hands to wrap his arms around her waist. "You'd _**'like'**_ it?" he teases. "That's _**it**_?"_

_She grins back, shoving against his chest lightly. His arms tighten around her in response. "You know what I mean."_

_"Yeah," he smiles, leaning forward to kiss her again. "I do know what you mean."_

.

"A… baby?" He repeats, trying to stay cool and not let his voice waver. "How'd it—How'd it turn out?"

"I don't know," Lexie murmurs, already slightly embarrassed for mentioning it. "It was just the one time."

"And why…" He trails off, confused as to why she'd fantasize about something she never seemed to want before. "Why'd it happen? Why'd you dream of that, of… of all things?"

Lexie closes her eyes momentarily, and the memory surfaces immediately. "It was the night you did that heart surgery with Teddy, on that little boy."

"You saw that?" Mark wonders aloud, not remembering having seen her in the gallery when he'd begun operating on the infant.

Lexie gives him a small smile when his eyes find hers. "Course I did," she replies quietly. From her quick response, he gets the impression that even though they might've been apart, she hasn't missed viewing any one of his surgeries. It makes him feel a bit better about having looked in on hers for the past few months.

Her quiet words draw him back to the present, but not to the unbridled happiness they'd had a moment later. "You kissed her when it was over." From the way she won't meet his eyes, Mark knows exactly whom they're talking about—and it isn't Teddy. "I… I was going to congratulate you—and Dr. Altman, of course—but…" She forces a smile, as if to say, _Oh, well_. "She beat me to it and got to you first."

Silence descends for a moment before Mark murmurs, "I would have preferred it to have been you."

Lexie laughs quietly, softly, as if his words had been a joke. "_Right_."

"It's true," he replies.

"Well, I just…" She pauses, sighing, and remembering his original question. _Why'd you dream that? _"I don't know," she whispers. "It's just… I saw you working so intently on that little boy, so focused on his safety, and I thought, just for a minute or two, what it would be like if we… If…" She shakes her head, abruptly breaking off. She turns away, avoiding his eye for a long moment. Eventually, she asks, "So why'd you two break up?"

Mark takes a deep breath, expelling it before he speaks. He tries to let go of her words as he starts to speak, but they linger in his mind. "She was making plans," he explains, "plans about the future, our… future, and I…" He shifts his eyes to hers. "I realized I didn't see a future with her. Not the way she did. Not really."

Lexie can't help but bite the inside of her lip in worry. "And… with me?" She wonders quietly.

His answer comes immediately. "I've always seen a future with you, Lex. Always."

Lexie takes a breath. "So why didn't you…" She closes her eyes, angry and confused all at once. She tries not to blame him for all this, but she knows that if he's not at fault, she must be. "Why didn't you come to me after you broke up with her? Why didn't you tell me that? Why didn't you—"

He gives her a sad smile, and it cuts off her protests. "How could I have done that, Lex? I'm always the one going around making us things that we're not, taking us too far when you're nowhere near ready. After…" He sighs. "After the past few years we've had, it's become clear to me that if things are ever going to work out between us, the both of us have to be equally ready for the same things. One of us can't be reaching. And with me always looking ahead…" He sighs again. "It just wouldn't have worked. You had to come to me on your own, show me that you wanted me—_this_—" He smiles, touching her cheek. "And today, you did. But this was weeks ago, after she and I broke up, and I had to hold myself back. I knew it wouldn't be good to rush into things with you right after I left her. You weren't ready and I… I couldn't ruin what might be my last chance with you by forcing those kinds of plans, those kinds of futures on you." He smiles. "So I've learned to wait, and we'll take it one step at a time now."

Lexie nods slowly, and from the faraway, glazed look in her eyes, he knows she's only half-here. He closes his eyes, hoping he hasn't said something wrong. Before he can open them, though, her words freeze him, blind, in place.

"They wouldn't have been forced."

Mark opens his eyes slowly a few seconds later, staring at her. He can barely breathe as he takes in the quiet, deliberate way she said those words. And the honesty that rings through them.

"Your plans… wouldn't have been forced," she repeats, not wanting to linger in silence. "Especially…" She takes a breath. "Especially not after all the time we've spent apart, away from each other… Alone. If you had told me what you wanted then… You wouldn't have been forcing anything, and even… Even now," she concludes in a whisper. "You wouldn't be forcing anything. Not on me."

Mark and Lexie stare at each other in silence for a few long minutes. It's so quiet in the apartment that they can hear the _ding _of the arriving elevator on the far end of the hall. Eventually, Mark closes his eyes, gathering what little reason seems to be left in his head to understand the whole picture.

"Why did you dream about us being married?" He wonders quietly, trying to fit all the pieces together. "If you wanted me so badly, why didn't you just imagine we were back together? Why marriage?"

Lexie swallows, not having expected this and therefore unsure of what to say. She'd expected something else, but he obviously… She shakes her head. "I—I don't know," she manages, trying to focus. "I—I did dream of just us together, but…" She closes her eyes, keeping them shut for so long a time that Mark can't help but prompt her.

"But?" He repeats, hoping she can't hear the desperation in his voice.

"But it was…" Lexie struggles to open her eyes and meet his. "It was always in the past. The dreams where we were just fooling around… They seemed, I don't know… _dated._ Like they'd happened years ago, when I was just starting my residency." She bites her lip, glancing down momentarily. "Like their time as reality had… come and gone." She pauses, listening to him heave a large breath beside her. "I don't know," she mutters again a moment later. "I guess…" She smiles weakly, glancing over to meet his eye. "I guess my mind kind of figured that while it was making up fantasies for itself, it might as well go the whole nine yards. And confuse the hell out of me along the way," she adds with a weak chuckle.

It's a long minute before Mark speaks. When he does, though, Lexie forgets how to breathe, how to think, how to _be_—she's completely focused on him, and what he's saying, and the very obvious meaning behind his words.

"They don't have to be a fantasies."

"Mark," she whispers when she can. His name comes out more like a whimper than an actual word, and she speaks more strongly the second time. "Mark, are you—"

"I'm not saying anything," he interrupts quietly. "I'm not asking you something, I'm not suggesting—" He breaks off, sighing in frustration and anger, certain he's already pushed her too far. "I'm just _saying_," he begins anew a moment later, "that your dreams…" He takes a breath, turning to look her fully in the eyes. "Your dreams don't have to stay dreams," he whispers. "You and me… Marriage… That doesn't have to be a fantasy, not if you don't want it to be. It doesn't have to be an unattainable dream, or something you yearn for but never get to have." He blinks at her, slowly, as she holds her breath. "It can be real, Lex, and I'd…" His serious face breaks out in a wide smile for a split-second, "I'd really love to make it real…" He sobers again, his expression turning quiet and somber. "But only if you want it, too."

.

_Author's Note: Cliffhanger, I know! I apologize, but the next chapter needs some more work and I didn't want to leave you guys with nothing :)_

_Please leave me a review below! I'll probably be able to update tomorrow :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3:**

Author's Note: Thank you all very much for the reviews! Sorry to keep you waiting; I hope you enjoy this chapter!

.

"I…" Lexie squeezes her eyes shut, hoping the world will stop spinning. Unfortunately, turning his face and bedroom into nothing but darkness doesn't quiet her brain, or her memory. _Your dreams don't have to stay dreams. You and me… Marriage… That doesn't have to be a fantasy. It doesn't have to be an unattainable dream, or something you yearn for but never get to have._

.

_ "What do you mean you don't want it to be indoors?" Mark asks, confusion coloring his tone. "Where else would we—"_

_ "It's in the spring," Lexie replies patiently. "That is the perfect time of year for an outdoor wedding."_

_ Mark sighs, shaking his head. "It's going to rain," he tells her._

_ "It is _**not** _going to rain," Lexie replies fiercely._

_ "It rains half of the days in a year here," Mark reminds her. "And it's cloudy almost two-thirds of the year." He gives her a small smile. "No matter how sunny and beautiful you want the wedding to be, Lex, I have to warn you: it's probably going to rain."_

_ Lexie huffs angrily. "How many times am I going to have to repeat the phrase 'It's not going to rain' before you get it through your thick head? _**It's not going to rain**, _Mark."_

_ He shrugs. "I just don't want to be the one who has to console you when you cry over the weather."_

_ Lexie frowns, determined. "I wouldn't cry," she replies defensively._

_ "It's been months since we started planning this thing," he reminds her. "And you've—"_

_ "This '_**thing,'**_" she scoffs, rolling her eyes._

_ He grins, but continues seriously anyway. "Yes, this _**thing**_." He sighs. "You've dedicated all of your limited free time to putting it together—so don't lie to me and say you'll be happy and chipper when the rain drowns out our day."_

_ "I won't be one of those awful brides that throws a fit, if that's what you're worried about."_

_ He smiles. "No, I'm not worried about that." He pauses, eyeing her. "I just want this to be perfect for you, okay? …And we live in _**Seattle**_, the virtual rain capital of the country. So can we please have the wedding indoors?"_

_ She stares at him for a moment before a bright smile spreads across her face. "Aw," she grins, "you've turned into a little bride!"_

_ "_**Excuse me**_?" Mark replies, staring at her in alarm._

_ "You want things to be 'perfect'," she quotes with a laugh, leaning forward to kiss him briefly. "You're such a diva."_

_ "I said that for your sake," he replies grumpily. "I could care less."_

_ "Uh-huh," Lexie mocks knowingly. "Sure."_

_ "Is Molly still in Arizona?" He asks, attempting to quickly change the subject and divert her attention. "We could have the wedding there."_

_ Lexie shakes her head. "No, she and Eric moved. Plus, Arizona's way too hot." Her nose wrinkles in distaste. "Everyone would collapse from heat exhaustion before I even made it halfway down the aisle."_

_ Mark smirks. "Maybe that's a sign that this thing should be called off," he notes._

_ Lexie doesn't hesitate to hit him hard in the chest. "Be _**quiet**, _Mark Sloan."_

_ He grins, batting her hand away. "Just because you're too scared to face the truth doesn't make it any less true."_

_ She heaves an exasperated sigh before speaking. "We are getting married whether you like it or not," she informs him. "So stop trying to talk me out of it."_

_ He smiles, bending towards her to press a quick kiss to the top of her ear. "Now why would I ever try to talk you out of this?" He wonders happily._

_._

"I…" She takes a shaky breath, squeezing her eyes shut. She wills her eyes not to water. When she opens them, she forces herself not to back down, to stare right at him. He can't take his eyes of the tears swimming in her eyes, finding himself hoping all over again that this won't be the last time he ever to see her. "I won't lie to you and tell you that I don't want to marry you," she whispers roughly. "I won't tell you that I don't want to be your wife because, really, you don't deserve that." She pauses to take a breath.

"But?" Mark prompts anxiously before she gathers enough oxygen to speak again. "But what?"

Lexie shakes her head. "No 'but's, Mark."

He stares at her in unconcealed awe. "Are you saying…"

"The man I love wants to spend the rest of his life with me," she smiles. She shrugs happily, feeling her eyes prick with tears. "Who am I to tell him he can't?"

"But—you're sure?" He presses. "You're sure about this, about me, about—" He breaks off, eyeing her seriously. "This isn't just the getting-back-together sex talking, is it?"

Lexie laughs. "We'll have to call it getting-engaged sex in a second," she replies happily.

His intense gaze doesn't waver at her good humor. "I'm _serious, _Lex," he presses again. "You need to be _positive. _You need—"

"Mark," she interrupts, leaning forward to place a finger on his lips. "I appreciate your concern. And I appreciate the fact that you want this to be meaningful decision, not one made only a whim, but trust me… This is not whim, not for me. I've imagined this reality enough times and now… Now I want it to actually _be_ real." She pauses, taking a dramatic breath. "So, _yes_, I have thought about it. I've thought about it a lot. I've dreamed about it, I've fantasized about it…" She smiles. "And I've come to a decision." She stares into his eyes for a silent moment, just so he knows how serious she is. "My answer is yes."

Mark lets his eyes fall closed at her words, knowing in his heart that she's telling the truth. "I don't think you understand," he begins roughly, "how much I love you right now."

Lexie grins, leaning forward to kiss him. He opens his eyes slowly, finding her grinning at him. "Why don't you show me, then? Make me understand."

His lips spread in a slow smile, and Lexie's own smile only widens when she takes in the genuine warmth in his. "I love you," he whispers to her.

She smiles down at him, rolling over so her back's pressed against the mattress and he's pressed down against her. "I love you too," she replies happily, snaking her arms around his naked torso to hug his sides. She sucks in a breath when he leans down to nuzzle her neck. Her pale skin erupts in goosebumps a second later when his hands begin sliding against their smooth contours. His fingers shape automatically, perfectly, to the changing shape of her skin as his fingers move from place to place. With a free hand, she cups his neck, directing his lips to hers. Their kiss is deep and seemingly endless—it's only when he feels her almost shake in his arms that he finally pulls back. Her skin is flushed below him, a result of her body being heated from the inside out.

Ready?" He murmurs, shifting himself above her.

Lexie smiles up at him, unconsciously arching her back towards him as he adjusts his position. "Ready," she whispers back, leaning up as he bends down, and pressing her lips hard against his.

.

"You regretting anything?" He asks the next morning, after hearing her rustle awake underneath the sheets beside him.

Lexie rolls over groggily, squinting over at him as the light streams in through the blinds on the other side of the room. "What?" She mumbles, scooting herself closer to him.

He smiles, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. "I was wondering," he repeats, "if you regret anything from last night?"

"Hm, I don't know," Lexie replies with an easy grin. "Why don't you remind me of all that's happened?"

Mark smiles down at her, pressing a brief kiss to her hairline. "Well," he begins a moment later, "first you came up to me in the middle of the hospital and admitted to lusting after me for months on end—" Her laughter interrupts him "—and then_,_" he continues with a smile, "_then_ you made out with me in a bar, and against a car—"

Lexie chuckles. "That rhymes."

He grins. "And in the elevator, too, though that doesn't end in _-ar_." He pauses. "And then we came home, went a few rounds between the sheets, and promptly fell dead asleep."

Lexie lifts her head from his shoulder, raising her eyebrows at him. "Oh? We went a few rounds and then fell dead asleep? That's it?"

Mark pauses, thinking. "Yeah," he concludes a moment later. "That's it."

"Interesting, because I remember it differently. I think something more might've happened."

He grins, leaning forward to press a kiss to her temple. "Well, you have been known to have a very vivid imagination, Little Grey."

Lexie smiles at the old nickname, resting her head against his shoulder. She reaches out taking his hand in hers and threading their fingers together. "I love you," she whispers, so soft that Mark's ears had to strain to hear the familiar words. As she settles more comfortably against him, Mark stares down, smiling at their entwined fingers resting above his stomach before realizing what's missing.

"We need to get you a ring," Mark murmurs quietly, turning their hands to the side to view her bare left hand more clearly.

"What?" Lexie teases, turning her head to look at him with a smile. "You mean you don't already have one picked out for me? What kind of fiancé are you, anyway?"

"Well," he grins, "if you couldn't tell, that proposal was rather last-minute. I didn't have time to run downtown to the jeweler's between one sentence and the next."

Lexie chuckles. "Buy me something expensive and maybe I'll forgive you," she jokes.

He smiles, reaching over to stroke her soft cheek gently for a quiet minute. "Any regrets?" He whispers.

Lexie exhales quietly, turning her head to look up at him. "None at all," she answers. "What about you?"

He closes his eyes, relieved, before replying: "Never."

.

Fifteen minutes later, they're standing fully dressed before the front door. Lexie slings her purse over her shoulder and, ready to head into work, reaches for the doorknob. But Mark takes her hands in his, holding her still.

"You happy?" He whispers, his voice barely audible.

Lexie smiles warmly, hoping to easy some of the worry in his blue eyes. "Yeah," she whispers back, squeezing his hand tightly. "I am. I really am."

"And…" He swallows, staring at her and unable to quell his nerves. "You're sure?" He asks in a whisper.

Lexie smiles, and opens her mouth to assure him of it all, but a second later, she thinks of a better idea. She drops his hand, bending over to rummage in her purse. Mark watches her, confused, until she produces a small, plain sterling-silver ring. Her eyes flicker to his briefly before she puts the ring on her left hand, twisting it onto her ring finger. She picks up his hand again a second later, squeezing it and looking her fiancé in the eye. "I'm very sure," she assures him, wearing the unadorned truth proudly on her finger for anyone and everyone to see.

.

"Hey, I didn't see you come home last night," Meredith Grey notes when her sister walks into the empty resident's longue a few minutes later. "Where were you?"

_I was at Mark's_, Lexie thinks to herself. A second later, she comes up with a better response. "I was with my fiancé," she replies simply, pulling on her scrubs and stashing her purse in a cubby.

Meredith stares at her sister in slack-jawed astonishment. Lexie forces herself not to give in to laughter—but a small smile does escape.

"What?" Meredith squawks when she can breathe, flying across the room and grabbing at her sister's left hand. She frowns when she notices the plain ring, dropping the brunette's hand and letting it fall unceremoniously back to her side. "You think Sloan would've sprung for something a bit nicer than a cheap five-dollar ring," she mutters with a frown.

Lexie grins, pleased that Meredith's first thought was of Mark. "It was ten dollars, not five," she replies with a smile. "And we're going to go ring shopping later this afternoon, anyway. So there."

"Well…" Meredith trails off with a smile. "Congratulations, I guess."

Lexie snorts quietly, shaking her head. "Try for a little more enthusiasm when you see Mark next, will you?"

"Can't promise anything," Meredith calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door. "But I'll try."

Lexie's voice stops her sister just as she's about to walk out the door. "Hey, Mer?"

Meredith Grey turns around, "Yeah?" She asks.

"How... How did you know it was Mark? When I said I had a fiancé—"

"Lexie," Meredith rolls her eyes with a laugh. "Come on."

"What?" Lexie protests. "What is it? Do you really not want me to be with him—?"

"Of course not," Meredith cuts in before she can even finish. She gives her sister a warm smile before walking back across the room. "I'm sorry I didn't show enough enthusiasm," she replies, "but there's a reason for that."

"And?" Lexie prompts hurriedly.

"_And,_" Meredith replies, "that's because this didn't exactly come as a surprise to me."

"Wait, you knew—"

Meredith shakes her head. "No, I didn't know. Not for sure." She smiles. "But I suspected. I assumed."

"H—How?" Lexie wonders, not have remembered her desperation for him having been that obvious.

Meredith rolls her eyes at her sister's worried expression. "You two have been dancing around each other for weeks!" She exclaims. "You can't really think I didn't see this kind of thing coming."

"You… thought he'd propose?" Lexie breathes, embarrassed for apparently being the only one who _hadn't _seen it coming.

"Well, no," Meredith admits. "But I knew one of you would do something. You'd get back together somehow." She smiles. "You always do. …And after he and Julia busted up, I knew one of you would make some kind of move sooner rather than later. …I just didn't think you'd jump right into marriage after only a minute or two of being back together."

"It wasn't a minute or two," Lexie replies defensively. Meredith raises her eyebrows. "Fine," Lexie mutters. "It was only a couple hours. But still—not a minute or two."

"Okay, Lex," Meredith replies with an easy smile. "Whatever you say."

There's knock on the resident's longue door a moment later. Both Grey sisters turn towards the visitor, wondering why a resident would knock instead of simply entering. Their silent questions are answered immediately—the woman is not a resident, but a fully-fledged doctor. A psychiatrist.

"Hello," she calls, smiling between the sisters. "I was wondering if I could talk to Lexie for a minute?"

Meredith glances between the two, shrugs, and heads to the door. "I guess I'll be going then." She stops as she passes her sister. "Lex, I really _am _happy for you," she smiles. "This is really good, for both of you. And I meant my congratulations, you know."

Lexie nods, giving her sister a small smile. "I know. Thank you, Mer."

"And I promise to act surprised if Mark mentions it," Meredith calls on her way out.

Dr. Jenson's inquiring gaze immediately flies to Lexie once her sister's out of the room. "What is Mark supposed to be mentioning?" She asks her client. "Did you two… work things out yesterday?"  
Lexie smiles to herself, glancing down to the floor.

"What?" Greta prompts. "I can't imagine anything too embarrassing could have happened." Lexie looks back up. "And you're still smiling," the psychiatrist notes happily. "Want to tell me what went on after you two left Joe's?"

Lexie raises her eyebrows. "What are you, stalking me now?"

The psychiatrist grins. "No, I just happened to be in the bar and saw you two leave." She pauses. "Am I getting my hopes up thinking you might've worked things out or gotten back together?"

Lexie covers her mouth with a hand to hold back her laughter, looking away. "No," she chuckles a moment later, meeting her psychiatrist's confused eyes again. "No…" She trails off, dropping her hand. "Your hopes are actually a bit low for the reality of the situation."

"The _reality _of the situation?" Greta repeats, intrigued. "Well," she crosses her arms, "now you've got me interested. Spit it out. What happened last night?"

"He, um…" Lexie closes her eyes for a moment. "He proposed," she admits in a whisper. "And I said yes."

"You're getting married," Greta repeats, not quite able to comprehend the meaning behind her own words. "To Mark Sloan."

Lexie can't help but smile. "Yeah, I am. And if you have objections, you're welcome to voice them but just know… I've made up my mind about this, Greta."

The psychiatrist nods slowly. "I guess you have."

"There's…" Lexie trails off, a bit confused at the other woman's silence. "There's nothing you want to say?"

Greta shrugs. "What's there to say besides '_Congratulations'_?" She almost shouts the last word, and Lexie can't help but burst out laughing.

"Thank you," she smiles a moment later. "That was the response I was looking for. I didn't exactly get it from Meredith," she mutters with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, well, she isn't as privy as to what's been going on behind the scenes as I am," the psychiatrist grins. "So," she begins a second later, sitting down on one of the benches in the longue, "are you going to tell me how this all happened?"

Lexie smiles, sitting down and joining the older woman. "Well," she begins, "you saw us at Joe's?" Greta nods. "After that, we went back to his apartment…" Lexie takes a breath. "And I told him. I told him everything."

Greta's eyes widen. "Everything?" She repeats, shocked. "Every—"

Lexie nods. "Every last one. At first, I—I was nervous, but…" She shrugs. "Those months apart were important to me. He deserved to know why."

Greta nods slowly. "So… After you told him all that, he decided to pop the question?"

"No, we…" Lexie looks down at her hands, smiling to herself at the memory. "We kind of came to the decision together."

"Explain."

Lexie laughs, looking back up. "Well, as I was telling him all this, he told me how he had been waiting for me too, after he broke up with his girlfriend…"

Greta frowns. "And he never mentioned this to you before last night?"

Lexie shakes her head. "He didn't think it would be a good idea to jump back into us, to what we were before, even though he wanted to. He… He didn't want to force things on me, to push our relationship further than I was willing—"

"Yet he still proposed," Greta interrupts.

"Only after I told him I would be open to the idea. Only after I told him how much those—those dreams of us being married meant to me."

"And then…?"

"And then he told me that they didn't have to be dreams," Lexie replies. "He told me… He said he'd love to make them real, but only if I wanted them to be real too."

"So you said yes," Greta smiles.

Lexie nods, smiling back at the older woman. "Yeah. I did say yes."

"Well…" Greta inhales a large breath, getting to her feet. Lexie does the same, watching the other woman as she mulls it all over. "I think this is really great," she says finally, letting Lexie exhale and take a breath of relief.

"Thank god," she mutters.

Greta grins. "It's a little fast, of course—"

"—A lot fast," Lexie corrects with a smile. "You can say it."

Greta nods. "Yes. It is very fast." She smiles. "But you know what? I think you can handle it. You've proven how serious and dedicated you are when it comes to him… And from what I've heard here, he seems the same way about you." She shrugs. "I don't see any reason to wait, not if you two both want this."

Lexie closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath. "Thank you," she whispers when she opens them. "Not just for today but—for every day," she continues. "Thank you so much. For everything."

Greta smiles warmly, realizing this may be the last time she speaks with Dr. Grey as her client. "I was more than happy to help," she replies. "I'm just really glad you two worked things out in the end."

The two exchange smiles before Greta heads to the door. Lexie follows after her, realizing she's probably missed half of rounds already sitting here talking. But just before she rushes down the surgical hallway, she taps the psychiatrist on her shoulder.

"I hope you know," Lexie tells her quietly, "that I'm going to save you a front-row seat at the wedding."

Greta smiles. "Can't wait," she replies.

.

"Time to get up, Lex. Let's go. Up."

Lexie Grey groans quietly, turning her head towards the voice. "Who is it?" She mutters in annoyance, blinking against the light in the room.

"Me," Mark replies, bending down to kiss her lightly. "Your fiancé."

Lexie lips spread in a weary smile at the mention. "Hi," she murmurs, propping herself up on her elbows and slowly waking up. "What's going on?"

"It's five o'clock is what's going on," he replies, sitting down on the edge of her cot with a quiet sigh. "Time to go home."

Lexie's face immediately puckers with sadness at the time. "Oh, no," she whispers, scrambling to get up, "I—I slept through everything, didn't I? We were going to go get a ring and I—"

"You were tired," Mark replies. He smiles, turning his head to look at her. "I don't blame you for falling asleep for a bit too long after what went on last night."

Lexie gives him a small smile in reply, situating herself into a sitting position beside him. She leans over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry I fell asleep," she whispers apologetically. "I set an alarm, but I must've slept through it…" She bites down hard on her lower lip. "I'm really sorry, Mark," she whispers sadly. "I… I'm so sorry."

He turns his head, staring at her for a long moment. Eventually, he reaches out a hand, cupping her cheek gently, and relishing in the way she presses herself closer to him. "It's okay," he murmurs a second later. He takes a breath, stroking her cheek lightly. "Besides," he continues, "this way you were distracted." Lexie's forehead creases in confusion. "It gave me a chance to come prepared this time," he explains in a murmur, using his free hand to pull a small box out of the pocket of his scrubs.

"Mark…" His name leaves Lexie's lips in a hushed, almost reverent whisper.

"You should know," he informs her quietly, looking down at the box, "that I spent more money on this than I ever have on another piece of jewelry."

"Mark," she protests immediately, "I was kidding! I wasn't serious about the expense—"

"I know you weren't," he replies with a small smile. "But…" He shrugs lightly, holding the box between them and flicking it open. "In case you weren't…"

If he hadn't already proposed and she hadn't already said yes—if this was all completely new and she was experiencing it all for the first—Lexie's sure she wouldn't be able to breathe. As it is, though, all this is not entirely new. But the ring still took her breath away, if only for a moment.

"You like it?" He asks quietly, watching her face.

Lexie can't do anything except nod dumbly.

"If it's not exactly what you wanted," he continues softly, "we can always return it."

"No," Lexie manages to whisper. "This—This _is_ what I wanted. More than what I wanted." She stares down at the ring, studying the open-curved band, flanked by rows of miniature diamonds on either side, and the large stone in the middle. "This is perfect," she manages to say, unable to take her eyes off the ring.

Mark watches her for a couple seconds, a smile blooming on his face, before gently lifting the ring from its box. Lexie holds out her left hand, having discarded the plain ring just a second ago, and watches as he slips it onto her finger.

"It's beautiful," she tells him, staring down at the ring, still not quite able to believe that it's hers—still not quite able to believe that _he's hers._

"Glad you like it," Mark replies, watching her. When Lexie finally lifts her eyes from the piece of jewelry, Mark is no longer sitting beside her. He's standing up, and he has his hand extended towards her. "Wanna go home?"

.

"I almost forgot to ask," Mark says as he closes the apartment door behind them.

"Ask what?" Lexie calls back, walking to the bathroom to turn on the shower. He follows behind her, leaning against the bathroom's doorframe while she moves around the room, searching for a towel.

"Did you have any dreams during your little siesta?"

Lexie looks over her shoulder, catching his eye with a smile. "No, I did not." Her smile widens a moment later, and she sets aside the towel in her hands to walk over to him. "At least," she murmurs, pulling him into a hug, "I don't think so." She brings her left hand to rest on his chest, unable to sneak a glance at the ring. "I hope I'm not in one right now."

Mark grins, stepping closer and wrapping his arms more securely around her. "You're not, trust me."

"Oh, yeah?" Lexie asks with a smile, pulling him back towards the already-running shower. Her hands slip from his chest to the waistband of her jeans, and she begins unbuttoning them while she speaks. "Wanna prove it to me?" She grins, kicking off her pants and lifting her hands to remove her shirt as well.

Mark drops his arms from her waist immediately, tearing off his shirt without hesitation. "There is honestly nothing else I would rather do," he smirks, yanking off his own pants and following her into the shower.

.

_Author's Note: Originally, I was going to have Lexie say 'no' to his sort-of proposal and then say 'yes' a few weeks or a month later… But I decided to do away with that idea, and have it happen all at once. What do you guys think? Yay or nay? And how was the rest of the chapter?_

_Please be kind and leave me a review with your thoughts :)_

_The next chapter will be the last._


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4:**

Quick note to the anon slexielover1—Thank you so much for your review :) You said some really sweet things, and I greatly appreciate your support. I'm really happy you like my writing, and this story. And, who knows? If you guys pester me enough with ideas, I might continue this one. ;)

Author's Note: To everyone else who reviewed; thank you all very much for the reviews. I'm glad you all liked the last chapter; I hope you like this one as well :)

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_"It's a simple choice, Lex. Green or blue. Just pick one."_

_ She sighs, turning around to the far wall. Strong hands on her shoulders flip her around almost immediately, forcing her to face the two stripes of paint they're deciding between._

_ "Pick," Mark commands. "Green or blue."_

_ Lexie shakes off his hands, turning around again to face the opposite wall, studying the patch of pain in the center of it. "I like the red," she excuses, tilting her head to the side as the studies the color._

_ "We already ruled out red," Mark reminds her, impatience seeping into his tone. "Green or blue."_

_ "Red," she replies, more confidently this time._

_ He sighs in exasperation, and they stand side-by-side in silence for a couple minutes. "Fine," he mutters eventually, not bothering to hide the groan in his voice. "Red it is. Even though green would look nicer," he adds in a pointed undertone._

_ She smiles, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Love you," she whispers sweetly in his ear._

_ "Uh-huh," he grumbles. "So if you love me so much, then why aren't we painting our bedroom green?"_

.

Lexie Grey jolts in place when a couple fingers snap crisply in front of her face.

"Decision time," she hears her husband say. "Don't think; just open your eyes and pick."

Lexie attempts to frown in annoyance at him, but she only ends up smiling, remembering how she used to fantasize about moments like this one. "You know I don't like snap decisions," she shoots back. She shoves his hand away with narrowed eyes. "And I also don't like men who snap their fingers in front of my face to get my attention."

"Yes, well, this about a paint color, Lexie." He smirks. "I think you can handle it."

"Why don't we just wait?" She asks for the tenth time in the last hour, rubbing her upper arms indecisively. "Until after the baby comes?"

Mark sighs, crossing his arms in quiet exasperation. "I seriously doubt you're going to want to paint and furnish an entire nursery after giving birth, Lex. We have the day off today," he points out. "Let's get it done now so we won't have to worry about it later."

"We don't even know the sex," Lexie protests. "How can we pick a color?"

Mark grins at the mention, eyeing her. "Well, _I_ know the sex," he replies. "And if you were curious, it just so happens to be a—"

"_Shut up!_" Lexie all but screeches, her hands flying to cover her ears and block out his words.

Mark laughs to himself, reaching around to hug her from behind. His hands rest, just barely linked together, on the ever-growing swell of her stomach. "Sure you don't wanna know?" He whispers in her ear once her hands have dropped back to her sides. "Aren't you just _dying _of curiosity?"

Lexie shakes her head, adamant as ever. "No." She turns, eyeing him seriously. "Unlike you, I _want_ to be surprised." Her brown gaze narrows at him dangerously. "And if you so much as drop a hint or slip up at _any _time," she threatens, "I'll—"

"I know, I know," Mark replies, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry; divorce papers are on hand."

Lexie aims a small smile in his direction, amused at his indifferent tone. A second later, she turns back to the paints, sighing as she stares at the choices. She frowns, eyeing the one of the right with a slight frown. She bites her lip. "You sure you're okay with yellow, Mark?"

He shrugs, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Whatever you want."

"But I thought you hated yellow," Lexie points out.

"And I thought you didn't want to have kids," he replies.

Lexie smiles, turning to meet his eyes. "Tastes change," she whispers, staring at him.

"Exactly," he agrees, kissing her lips briefly. A moment later, they're focused on the paints again. "And if you want the yellow, and this is where our baby is going to live, then I'll learn to love yellow." He smirks. "Just like I learned to love you."

Lexie rolls her eyes, shaking off his embrace. "You've still got a long way to go in that last regard, as far as I'm concerned," she mutters, turning around. She points across the room to the yellow paint cans by the door. Her fingers snap in his face before he has a chance to speak. "Now get a move on."

.

"What are you smiling about over there?" Mark asks later that night, glancing over his shoulder to find his wife grinning as she lies, waiting for him, in bed. "Please tell me it's another one of your amazing plans to seduce me."

"No," Lexie laughs. She shakes her head, trying to hide her smile. "It's nothing like that," she replies as he rounds the bed to his side.

"That's what they always say," Mark replies with a small smirk.

She smiles absentmindedly, watching as he pushes back the covers and settles into bed next to her. "It's just…" Lexie trails off, wondering what to say. "I… I used to dream of days like this one," she admits softly.

Mark stares at her, feeling a small smile curve up his lips. It's been five years since she first admitted to dreaming obsessively and endlessly of their future together. five years since he admitted how happy he would be if those dreams ever came true. And almost four years, now, that they'd fulfilled their joint fantasies and gotten married. And in all that time, she'd barely mentioned those dreams.

There were only two standout exceptions.

.

The first was on their wedding day.

As they'd danced together, alone in their actions but surrounded by their friends and family, she'd told him how she used to think "it" would never happen between them. He'd smirked, and even though he knew full well what 'it' meant, he asked her anyway. He watched her eyes close and her lips spread in a happy smile; he watched as she looked to the floor beneath them, embarrassed, as she spoke. _Our happily ever after, _she'd admitted, _I thought we would never get it. I thought it would never happen between us._ Thinking she'd originally meant simply getting married, her heartfelt words momentarily threw him for a loop. But a moment later, he was drawing her closer with a hand on her lower back, leaning down, and whispering back, _Me neither. But we did get it. It has happened._

The second time occurred not so long ago, only five months in the past now, but a bit over three years following their wedding. The warm light of dawn had just barely begun to shine through the half-open blinds in their bedroom window when she'd bent over him, murmuring in his ear. _Mark, _she'd whispered, her soft voice tickling his ear like the stroke of a feather and waking him slowly, _I'm pregnant._ With his mind still foggy from sleep, it had taken him a full minute and a half to take in and comprehend her words. The moment the realization hit—and it hit him like a bolt of lightning—Mark found that he couldn't speak a word. Instead, he jolted up in bed, took her face in his hands, and kissed her as if his life—or possibly the life of their unborn child—had depended on it. When they inevitably broke apart for air some time later, his hands clutched her close, not allowing more than an inch of space between them. She hugged him back, and told him, tearfully, how happy he'd made her. She told him how, for the longest time, she never understood why she used to dream of having a child with him. It never aligned with the priorities she had had at the time; it never fit into her life; it never made any sense… _But now_—she reached for his hand, removing it from her cheek and placing it delicately on her stomach, watching as his fingers spread wide in awe and protection—_now I know why. Now I understand._

.

Mark smiles at the memories now, reclining on the pillows propped up against their headboard. "And how does our paint-splattered reality match up?" He asks, smiling over at her and wiping a wayward speck of paint from her hairline.

Lexie smiles back, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Even better," she whispers against his skin. "Ever better than I could have ever imagined."

He grins as she pulls away. "And we both know what an imagination you have," he teases. Lexie smiles back briefly, but a moment later, her face has grown reserved and serious. Mark's eyebrows knit together at her peculiar expression.

"Lex?" He wonders, not understanding the source of her distress.

"I—I want to know," she whispers, staring over at him. "I want you to tell me."

"You want me to tell you what?" Mark asks, confused.

"The baby," she replies in a whisper, "is it a boy or a girl?"

Mark Sloan stares back at his wife for a silent, serious moment before a smile breaks across his face. "Nice try, Grey," he smirks. "But I'm not _that_ easy," he reminds her. He turns away to switch off the light, but her hand on his shoulder stops him.

"I'm serious," Lexie tells him, staring into his eyes as he freezes beneath her touch. "I want to know."

"It's only three more months, Lex," Mark reminds her with a smile as he turns back to face her again. "You've held out all this time; I think you can wait a little while longer."

She shakes her head. "I can't. I want to know. I _need _to know."

He regards her silently before sighing softly. "Where'd this come from?" He inquires, remembering her adamant refusal to know the truth earlier in the day. "Why do you _need _to know now?"

"We—We finished the nursery today," Lexie explains. She bites her lip momentarily, staring into her husband's eyes. "And I want to know what will be living in it when the time comes, now that it's done."

Mark smirks automatically. "It isn't going to be a monster or something, if that's what you're worried about."

"_Mark_," Lexie pleads, begging him to take her seriously.

He sighs in resignation. "Lexie…"

"Fine," she mutters a second later, searching for a compromise. "Just—tell me: did we paint the nursery the right color?"

"We painted it yellow," Mark replies neutrally.

"Is that the right color or not?" Lexie demands.

"It's a unisex color," he excuses with a shrug.

Lexie stares at her husband for a long minute, hoping to force the answer from him under the intensity of her gaze. But when she realizes that he won't cave, she huffs loudly, flopping back against the pillows and squeezing her eyes shut, attempting to sleep. Mark watches her for a moment with a faint smile on his face before turning around and hitting the lights. He stares at the ceiling above him as the room is bathed in darkness, forcing himself, second by second, not to fall prey and blurt out the truth.

Around fifteen minutes later, Mark looks to his left. He stares at his wife, studying the easy, measured rise and fall of her chest with each breath she takes. When he's certain she's dead asleep, he leans over, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. He watches, waiting for some sign of consciousness to flicker across her face at the action, but her expression remains completely still. He takes a deep breath.

"It's a girl," he whispers, pressing another kiss to her skin. His hand reaches out to rub her growing stomach gently, and he leans his forehead against her ear. "We're going to have a daughter, Lex." Mark Sloan can't help but smile at saying the words aloud—at finally _telling her_—even though she can't hear him. He breathes in quietly before lifting his head from hers. He's just about to lie back on his side of the bed when he's frozen in place by what he hears next.

"I _knew_ it," Lexie manages through clenched teeth. "I _knew_ it was a girl. That's the only explanation for you agreeing to paint the room yellow. You _hate _yellow."

Mark's eyes widen at the sound of her voice, and upon comprehending her words, he feels his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth, rendering him incapable of coherent speech. "L—Lex," he tries to say. "I—"

"Yellow is not a _unisex color_, Mark Sloan," she growls, her eyes snapping open accusingly. "It's a girl color."

"I thought you were asleep," he manages, shocked into stutters. "I would never have said anything if I knew you were awake, Lexie, I'm so sorry—"

"It is a _girl _color, Mark!" She repeats angrily. "A girl! A—" She breaks off, choking mid-sentence as she processes her own words. A second later, she's sat up and jumped forward, almost tackling her husband in a desperate hug. "We're having a _girl_," she cries into his ear, feeling her eyes prick with happy tears. "A little baby girl! Oh—" She buries her head in his shoulder. "Oh my god," she whispers. "We're having a daughter, Mark. A _daughter_."

Mark feels a smile spread over his face at her joyful words, and he clutches her tighter in response. "Yes, we are."

"She'll be our little girl," Lexie whispers into his neck. "_Ours_."

Mark's smiling when they pull back, and he lifts his hands to her face, cradling it delicately. "So I take it we aren't getting divorced, then, if you're this happy about it being a her?"

Lexie beams, shaking her head. "I feel more like getting married a second time than worrying over all those contracts and lawyers and court dates."

Mark rolls eyes at her insensitive answer, but she simply laughs, reaching for him again and hugging him tight. "A girl," she whispers again and again. "Our baby's a girl." Though she tries to hide it, her lips keep spreading in a wide smile. "God," she mutters, touching her cheeks, as she finally pulls away from him, "now I know why you went around with that ridiculous grin on your face for an entire month after the doctor told you."

Mark chuckles, bending forward to kiss her cheek. "I'm glad you're happy about it too."

Lexie's smile only widens. "How could I not be? I have a job and a house and a wonderful husband… And we're going to have a baby girl together."

Mark smiles, kissing her lips briefly. "Missing anything?" He wonders a second later. An old smirk turns up his lips. "Yearning for anything, Lex?"

Lexie laughs quietly, shaking her head. "No, no…" She trails off into silence, settling back against the pillows. He does the same, letting the sides of their bodies line up as they lie side by side. A few minutes later, a small, secretive smile—almost as old as his smirk—finds it's way onto Lexie's face. "Hey, Mark?" she ventures quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What time do you have to go in tomorrow?"

"Eight," he replies, turning his head to look at her. "Why?"

Lexie smiles, and after glancing briefly to the clock and realizing that they do indeed have enough time, she rolls on her side towards him. She places her hand against her husband's chest, drawing curling patters with her index finger on the fabric of his t-shirt. "Because I changed my mind."

"Oh, yeah?" Mark murmurs, watching her with a smile spreading on his face.

She nods, lifting her eyes to his. "I do yearn for something," she whispers, staring into his eyes. His lips turn in a easy smile.

"And what's that, Lex?" He wonders quietly.

She closes her eyes momentarily, and he watches as a happy smile blooms on her face. "You," she whispers, seeking out his loving gaze again. "I yearn for you, Mark."

Mark Sloan leans forward, meeting his wife's lips halfway as she reaches out for him. "I yearn for you, too, Lex," he murmurs into the kiss as they gently pull each other closer. "As always."

.

_Author's Note: Well, this one-shot turned out a lot longer than I expected :) I hope you guys enjoyed it! Please leave me a final review below!_


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